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bitchimasnake-sss · 3 days

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Sleep nonnie again. Is it okay if I go by 🦊🌲 its easier.

Anyways I think it would be a funny scenario if you suggest to the op boys to keep their hands warm by putting them between your thighs. I know some boys would just get a heart attack if you suggest that and get a cute blush

say whAT NOW?? NONNIE HELLO AND WELCOME BACK!! (dm me so that we can be friends ur fic ideas are so out of pocket i love it); also, gonna add ace cause i see many ace thirsties out there ;)

let me warm you up ft. the monster trio//ace!

luffy:

💗when he agreed to this, he didn't know just what kind of uncharted territory he was entering. he was simply not prepared. you had given him such a soft smile, taking his hands into yours as gingerly, "luff, are you cold?" he had nodded a mindless yes because you were crossing a terribly cold patch of the sea and his hands were freezing. but then held his hand a bit tighter and whispered, "i can warm them up for you. if you like?" he was too drunk on the idea to see the mischievous glint in your eyes and the way you spurred him on with your honey-like voice.

💗so now, he sat in front of you, eyes blown wide and lips trembling as his hands rested between your plush thighs. you had squeezed your thighs shut around his restless hands, claiming that it'll get him warm in little to no time. but god, this was hard (much like something else) and he was trying his best to keep his fingers still and not do anything hasty, like digging it into your soft flesh and relishing in the way your body molded to his touches. or by trailing his hand a bit upwards and seeing the way you react. 💗"luffy??" you called out and captain shook his head as he crawled out of that daze like state, "y-yeah?" "you okay?" you mumbled, voice far too gentle. you fucking minx. "you seem like you're losing your mind." good catch! because he was. luffy abruptly pulled his hands backwards lest he do something that truly made him lose his sanity. he scrambled off of your bed, heading out the door into the chilly deck in long, skitterish steps. "where ya going?" you called after him but he rushed out, yelling after himself, "JUST GONNA WARM UP WITH USSOP INSTEAD BYE" did ussop have better thighs than you? you may never know.

zoro:

💚zoro was very stupid, very. he was not the smartest tool in the shed when it came to love or crushes or dating or cooking food or social cues or emotional intelligence or— i should stop before this turns into zoro slander [i promise i love him]. but now, the bounty hunter sat with his face flushed and hands tucked between your soft, malleable thighs. he was smarter than this, truly. he knew that when you suggested that he looked cold and you can warm him up, he was supposed to say "fuck no, get out." because having a crush on you was embarrassing enough on it's own. but you had given him such a gut-wrenching, pleading look. your eyes saddened and your lips fell into a pout and oh god, what was he, if not the man who would let you ruin him? 💚ever since he was a child, zoro had always known that he would die a noble swordman's death. he would die fighting, brave, courageous, unafraid. now, he was sure he'd die from the way you squirmed and pressed your thighs shut. "quit movin'" he grunted, looking away from you as your stared at him. but you tucked your arms against your chest and the soft swell of your tits fell forward towards him so deliciously. he must have lost focus and let his gaze travel against your body cause you coughed, drawing his attention back to your face, "quit starin'." he pulled his hands back, ears going red and heart faltering. he should really stop before he gave into the temptations and pinned you to the mattress to— his voice pitched up, "i-i'm going back to my room, bye." "zoro?!" you called after the swordsman as he ran out, "BUT THIS IS YOUR ROOM, WHERE ARE YOU GOING??" [spoiler: he went to chopper and crushed herbs to make medicine. he wanted to get rid of some of that tension but he failed. because he put the pressure too hard and the china dish in which he was crushing the leafy herbs broke, and now chopper was hitting him square in his head, talking about how important it was to be precise in medicine and how zoro will never make a good doctor. "stop hitting me— OW" "what KIND OF A DOCTOR ARE YOU?" "IM A SWORDSMAN!" "YEAH CAUSE YOU CANNOT BE A DOCTOR!"]

sanji:

💙breath in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out. breath in, breath out— "sanji?" you asked, a tinge of worry at his almost fainting figure, "are you okay?!" "my love, darling, sugar pie—" the man caught his tongue between his teeth, trying to stop his head from spinning. the floor seem to sway under him, the lights seemed too bright. was he flying or was it the blood rush?? "what did you just ask me?" you look down at the kitchen floor, mumbling with a bashful smile, "if your hands are cold...i can warm them up." his heart quickened as did his fingers. he chopped the bell pepper so hastily that you were sure you saw sparks flying. "and how would you do that?" "you can keep them between my thighs, if you like?" you looked up, "OH MY GOD SANJI YOUR NOSE—" 💙i hate to cut the story short but sanji 100% fainted and you had to catch him before he fell face-forward into the pot with boiling water on the stove. sorry, he gets no bitches :( but you did look after him on the bedside and let him eventually touch your thighs so... idk, a win is a win!!! ["so, is he like dead?" zoro had asked, uninterested, as you hauled the cook's figure outside the kitchen. you were dragging him to his room as the rest of the crew trailed you. they had heard your shriek and came spilling into the kitchen to see what the fuss was about. "did you give him a hug?" nami asked, amused. "hug's too much." ussop snickered, "she probably smiled at him." sanji whipped his head dangerously to glare at them, "i can hear you. and i will be poisoning your food." he looked back at you, "oh don't you worry, im still fainted." he closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall on your shoulder. you smiled to yourself, making a note to warm him up later]

ace:

🧡truthfully, how do you ask a man made of literal fire if you can "warm him up"??? you must have not thought you plan through because you had stood in his room a bit tipsy, locked the door behind you and asked a boy [who was always shirtless cause he was so warm] that question. "huh?" ace's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. he stood up to walk towards you, "what is that about? you wanna warm me up?" "NO!" you bit your cheek when you realized the implications of your words, "i was joking, obviously." "awh, i do love when you humor me." he quipped, "it's kinda cute." "shut up." you glared at him but he gave you an earnest smile back, "if you're cold, you could have just told me." he set his finger ablaze, acting suave, "see, i can warm you up." "you wanna set me on fire?" you seethed. "no?!" "why did you light your fingers on fire?!" "YOU ASKED A MAN MADE OF FIRE IF YOU CAN WARM HIM UP? DONT ASK ME QUESTIONS?!" "i'm drunk" you mumbled. after a beat you looked down at the floor, "and... i'm kinda cold." portagas d. ace just smiled, shrugging in mock nonchalance, "we can cuddle, if you like. i've been told i'm a pretty great heater." you laughed, "hah, hotshot." ace gave you a wicked grin, "how drunk are you?" "not nearly enough." just saying, portagas d ace was better than just a "pretty great heater." he was a pretty great fu-

a/n: i love writing stupid things so much. it makes me so happy because i'm a stupid little girl giggling and typing on her laptop when she should be doing work. tagging the ever lovelies: @bokutosbiceps (resident luffy enjoyer) and @help-i-lost-my-sock (resident ace enjoyer). if you wanna be added to the tag list, please let me know (//tell me your preferences and i'd tag you in those fics)!

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chihoshisai · 2 days

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Guitarist Ace

Ace x Reader

cw : established relationship, cursing, angst, hurt with no comfort, ace is a guitarist in a band, mention of sex, oral and fingering, drinking // wc : 1,755K words // also on ao3

A Drowned Temper

Ace was a good boyfriend.

Until he started drinking.

He was a good drunk — lively, sometimes the life of the party and occasionally he would black out. Though only for a moment, as he would regain consciousness soon enough for people to assume he wasn't completely wasted. But that was on the good nights, where his band did a good liveshow, when tickets were sold out and everything seemed to go without trouble. During the afterparties, he was loving. Towards his members, towards you and even towards any strangers who happened to cross paths with him as the heat of alcohol flushed his body. And you enjoyed that — the way he would whispers hushed affection in your ears, how his hands would travel across the parts of your body he usually was too prude to touch in public, how he easily egged you into joining the fun despite your claims that someone needed to stay sober to watch river the group. Even though that someone was frequently you.

This part of Ace was fiery, far from the heat he demonstrated on stage. A contagious side of him that left you worried as you watched him drink and drink and drink some more. With no words of concern holding the power to stop him from intoxicating his system. Only when he stopped waking up from his occasional black outs did you put down your soft drink, bid goodnight to the other members of the band, and drag him into a taxi to finally reach the destination of his apartment. It wasn't too much to handle.

But the thing with alcohol is that once you're used to it, once your body is used to handling it, it becomes a habit. A habit that becomes harder and harder to control the more accessible drinks are to you. The more often they are offered to you. And Ace found himself a victim of all of it. He was an accustomed drinker, his body had built a tolerance. A threshold that he would often go beyond, under the sheer fortunate glasses that would be handed to him during dîners with recording companies as he pitched the idea of his group, and sometimes his bandmates who wanted to drink after a long week of practice sessions. Or by walking down to the convenience store on his day off because he simply wanted to drink. And sometimes pressure.

Being the guitarist and leader of a four people band was fucking exhausting. Like really. It was a group effort but being the glue to the group, the representative, could be stifling. Shouldering the dreams and hopes of everyone, as they applied and auditioned to countless record companies was stressful. What with the sheer reality of being rejected once again hitting everyone like a hard heavy truck, Ace had to be the one to keep the smile going on his face. Telling everyone that it would be okay. That they would do better next time. Or that the recording company sucked ass and they're worth more than they could imagine. Most importantly that they were still doing pretty well hosting their own shows at live houses, even gathering their own fanbase.

If he showed weakness during these times what would become of their group. What if everyone lost hope? What if they all went their separate way? He had worked ridiculously hard to get to that point. To find his members. To create the group. There was no way in hell that he would allow it to dissolve into nothing. And over what? A few rejections from power and money hungry old conglomerate bastards? Over his dead body. All that to say that Ace dealt with a lot, felt a lot and lived through a lot.

Meaning he needed a drink.

Sometimes more than he needed you.

Now, you were probably the brightest light of hope and inspiration in Ace's life. Being his girlfriend meant listening to his music whenever you or he pleased, witnessing their practice sessions, getting to know the other members, walking home late, hand in hand, as he shared his aspirations for the future, his eyes glazed with passion. Late night calls where he'd ask for your thoughts on this new melody he thought of while you sleepily yawned that it was 3am, but he would argue that he wanted you to be the first to hear it. On the times he would invite you to sleep over, his floor hidden underneath piles of clothes though not without empty bottles, he would sheepishly pick them up saying not to mind the mess though you assured with a grin that you saw nothing.

Until the curtains of night fell and he would fuck, lick and finger your cunt until you were either visibly pleased or begging him to stop while being a drooling mess. Ace would then gently stroke your hair, whisper how much you meant to him. How much he loved you, the words sweet in your ears, before he grabbed his acoustic guitar and played a ballad that would proficiently lull you to sleep.

The next morning you would wake up, not to the soreness of your body but to the savory smell of breakfast waltzing its way throughout the house. With your eyes peeking open to the empty place next to you, your steps would instinctively lead you to the kitchen, where you'd wrap yourself around Ace, the chimes of good mornings and kisses filling the soft golden room that basked in the sun before eating breakfast together while making small talk. You were happy. You were both happy.

Not being part of the group meant that they were hidden sides of him you got to see. Some more often than others. And some more bittersweet than you'd like to admit. Oftentimes, you blamed the industry, feeling that they were purposely sabotaging the band rather than the pressure Ace put on himself. Even as his count of drinks kept going up on the bad days, you had decided to stop by his place for once out of worry, but mostly to offer support along with a shoulder to lean on as his partner. Like a storm you always showed up banging on his door to make sure he would hear it over the rhythm of his guitar.

The ceaseless noise, rattling at Ace's brain, irritated him. He wondered which of his band members had come and for what reason when they knew he preferred to be left alone on days like these. Though since they were a team, it made him feel like the world turned agaisn't him everytime he was having a bad day. And with each pound of the door he found himself unable to mute the sound from his mind, forcing his feets to trail towards the door, his right hand opening a crack to reveal his head while his left hand remained hidden with a bottle nestled in it.

“What do you fucking want,” he slurred, before releasing a sigh once he recognized the person behind. “Oh, it's just you,” he let himself disappear behind the dusk of his place, visibly unaware of the alarmed expression that settled on your face while he left the door to hang open for you to slip in.

“Ace are you alright?” You asked, following him inside, feeling a pit form in your stomach at the sight of bottles that lined up on the floor, the place looking messier than you had ever seen. “I heard from Marco about what happened. Do you want to talk about it?”

Standing in his living room, a hand pressing the bridge of his nose while an exasperated sigh escaped his lips, Ace tried not to blame his member for blabbering like that. “Are you here to give me a pep talk?” He gave you a stern look, eyebags clouding his face, a tint of red blurring the white of his eyes from a sleepless night while he stood shirtless, dressed in nothing but shorts.

“No I'm not.”

“Good. Because I really am not in the mood for it,” he exhaled from his nose before swallowing a swig of his drink.

“I just wanted to make sure that you're okay,” you spoke in an hesitating voice, slightly taken aback by his attitude.

“Well clearly I'm not and there's nothing you can do about it,” he shook his head, seemingly as though to say can't you see how I look.

You tempted a few careful steps towards him while you spoke, “Ace, why don't you slow down on the drinks a little,” you reached out a hand, slowly almost as if you were scared to frighten him. “I think you've had enough for today,” as your hand further approached it was met with the empty air due to the recoil of Ace's hand.

“Don't try to tell me how much I can drink,” Ace involuntarily raised his tone. Surely it wasn't him speaking, but the alcohol, right? “Who do you think you are?” He didn't mean for the words to sound so harsh. But they did.

“I'm your girlfriend,” your voice broke in your throat, memories of your time together flashing in your mind. “Does that not mean anything to you?”

“Certainly not now,” he began before pointing a finger in your direction. “Look, you're not a musician, you can't understand how shitty it can be, how fucked up my reality is and how we are not in this together. You're a bystander that can only cheer for me from a distance, okay.”

The burning heat of the words that charred your skin, along with the rapid heartbeats that mingled to create a pained expression to form on your features made you question the tangibility behind the shared past that slowly turned into bitterness. “It doesn't mean I can't empathize with you,” your voice pleaded, finding itself unable to get upset at his words.

“Sympathy is not what I need right now. It is not going to do shit for me!” Ace boomed in your face. His temper had completely slipped out of his grasp. “If you want to help, go home.”

“Ace,” your voice cracked as you shook your head, tears glistening in the corners of your eyes.

“Go home!” He yelled, pointing towards the door. And as he watched you go with tears streaming down on your cheeks, relief and anger conflicted inside him, before he went to sit down on his couch and drown in the sweet toxin of alcohol.

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animeglitch · 3 days

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iocity · 23 hours

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ASL ‘Merica AU where Sabo feels guilty about involving his brothers in his conflicts with his biological parents. They are real bona fide assholes, and Sabo does not in any way want to reconnect with them, but they are PERSISTENT. With every yelled word bouncing off the walls of the brothers shared home, Sabo’s guilt grows. He stopped believing when they said they would change years ago, but he can’t seem to shake them off.

Sabo who doesn’t tell his brothers how he feels because they have their own problems, their own struggles that seem so much bigger than old parent problems. He is supposed to be strong. He is sure that in a house of people with “real” issues, his won’t matter.

Sabo who can’t help but get angry when he has to deal with his biological family, but not regular angry. It sticks for the whole day, onto the next, and that same feeling of guilt creeps up the back of his neck. He hates how his brothers seem to walk on eggshells around him when he is in his moods, but he can’t stand to pretend to be in a sunny mood he is not in (his brothers can tell anyway). He snaps because his parents are the knife in his side, and he is in pain.

Sabo who hates crying, because crying means his parents have won the nonexistent but constantly present battle between them. Crying means that they have made him weak again, made him helpless, made him remember what he used to be. Guilt is met with shame, and shame accompanied by sorrow and anger. His own reflection an overwhelming cacophony of everything he hates. His mother’s lips, his father’s eyes; his own genetics betray him. He feels his parents in him, and he braces himself as fear overtakes him; his hands grip the wall as he silences his breaths.

Sabo who holds his breath to exact his control, to break their hold over him. His breath can’t shake if he doesn’t let it out; his eyes can’t cry if his heart is trying to escape his chest. If he is in control he can be cold, calculated; he can give his parents what they deserve. What they gave to him. To him, it’s logic, it’s reason, and it’s strength.

Sabo who can’t help the jolt that runs through him when he feels arms around him, his chest heaving with warm air, the ache within him worsening. He has been pulled out of his control and into the warmth and unpredictability of his brothers’ arms. All at once he is melting, and it shows in the way his chest heaves into a sigh, then a sob, in the way that water flows down his cheeks until he is sure there is a puddle under him, and in the way that he reaches blindly for them through his tears. They are already there.

Sabo whose apologies fall on deaf ears, because they don’t give a damn about his parents (something they now make sure to tell him often), they give a damn about him.

Luffy who can’t help but cry too, because Sabo is not only his older brother, but his heart. Not by blood but by choice which, for him, means so much more. It’s only natural to cry when your heart hurts. He clings to Sabo, hoping to solidify his presence, because he is there. He isn’t a thought or a feeling, he isn’t fleeting. He is permanent. Heart to heart, warm and present. He doesn’t understand; he never cared much about things like his biological family. Despite that, he is shifting to his feet, making Sabo’s favorite snack consuming mind because his words often fail him but his hands rarely do. Food brings people together, right? He hopes Sabo is hungry, so they can eat together.

Ace whose clenched jaw, deep frown, and furrowed brows speak for him. ‘Why didn’t you tell us? Why did you do this alone?’ But he’ll nag later, because first and foremost he is the oldest brother. So for now Ace will hold his little brother while he cries and control the anger bubbling up within him, not only at Sabo’s parents, but at the world. He is unmoving even when Sabo has stilled from his crying, silent when Luffy wriggles out of their grip to grab snacks for them. As still and permanent as rock, letting Sabo lean on him until he finds the strength to walk on his own.

Sabo whose guilt and shame crashes against the corners of his mind, frustration rising because he is full of feelings he doesn’t recognize and therefore can’t control.

Sabo who is spiraling until a warm gas station honeybun is being shoved under his nose by forceful hands, ratty sandals being tucked aside as Luffy sits criss-cross in front of him with a plate of his own, Ace’s plate balancing on Luffy’s straw hat. A hand is on his neck as he rocks back and forth slowly, looking nervous.

“I don’t think it was supposed to be microwaved with the wrapper on y’all.”

“You’re shitting me.”

Sabo who hears Ace cursing about the house being rented and microplastics, and Luffy arguing back despite knowing he is in the wrong.

Sabo who laughs. In disbelief, in amusement, in insanity. He can’t tell anymore, but he feels the waves stilling in his mind, replaced with the sound of his brothers’ quarreling and his own laughter. Because they don’t give a damn about what he perceives to be weakness; he doesn’t need to feel ashamed.

Sabo who knows his life isn’t fixed and who knows he will have to talk to his brothers eventually, but who also loves his brothers and warm gas station honey buns. Sabo who feels at home in this familiar warmth.

“Man, I love you guys.”

Masterlist!

Tags c|:D : @porschethemermaid

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kat-and-their-cats · 2 days

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I have come to realise that my comfort shows seem to have a few things in common. And one of those things is Brutal Pipe Murder.

#one piece #tma #the magnus archives #brutal pipe murder #you can argue that we never see it happen in one piece #but between young Ace and literally all of Sabo they had to have murdered at least one person by pipe #portgas d ace #revolutionary sabo #elias bouchard #jurgen leitner #sabo #flame emperor sabo #fire fist ace #chief of staff sabo #one piece sabo #one piece ace

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sen-ya · 1 day

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Hey it's Blade ☺

I was wondering have you ever thought of how Law and Ace would act with one another if they ever met in the show?

I feel like they would like each other but not be friends (Ace would but Law would hide it) but I also feel like when Law heard that Ace died and after saving Luffy he remembers his last talk with Ace and cry to himself 🥺

(Sorry I know... Angst)

HULLO! I’m sorry it took me so long to respond to this, I’ve been thinking about it since you sent it 😭 I can’t conjure anything interesting tbh outside of how it’d be neat to see them fight together, which is definitely not what you’re getting at here 🥲🥲

#my art #one piece #heart pirates #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece law #portgas d ace #one piece ace

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brancasyard · 6 months

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No one wants Luffy 😭😭

No wonder he’s terrified of being alone

#my art #fanart #one piece #op #luffy #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #one piece ace #asl brothers #crocomom #crocodile #crocodad #get tf rid of this kid speedrun #ginny is not his mommy #croc will always be his 2nd dad #garp I dare you take care of your grandsons

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leaff0dil · 2 months

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The sleepers (+wings au)

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #sabo #portgas d ace #asl brothers #one piece sabo #one piece luffy #one piece ace #i was hesitant on posting this cuz of some parts of the drawing I wanted to change #but it’s late and i’m too tired so I just ball with it

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saemoryyy · 2 months

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🦐

#art #one piece #digital art #sabo one piece #clip studio paint #one piece fanart #one piece ace #ace one piece #portgas d ace #one piece sabo #revolutionary sabo

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d-does-art · 2 months

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Ace wakes up on a random island two years after his death as a ten-year-old. But he has no memory of his adult life. Sabo just died, and he has a little brother to look after. Or maybe an older brother?

There is a bit of time between Ace waking up and Luffy finding him.

Sorry this is so long I'm still trying to figure out how to do comic-y things.

Part two

#Did I make this up just so I could draw Little Ace on the crew?#yes I did #I wanna draw him in all the outfits #one piece #one piece au #one piece fan art #monkey d. luffy #portgas d ace #one piece ace #one piece asl #roronoa zoro #tony tony chopper #god usopp #straw hat pirates

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tagzpite · 20 days

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phoenix kisses

#digitalart #fanart #art #digital art #one peice #one piece ace #portgas d ace #portgas ace #one piece #ace #ace ace ace #marco x ace #ace x marco #marco one piece #one piece marco #marcoace #marco the phoenix #op

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luffypeach · 1 month

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they live in my heart rent free

#i miss them so much #heartbreaking #a wound that will never be healed #one piece #op #luffy #ace #sabo #asl brothers #monkey d. luffy #portgas d ace #one piece ace #one piece luffy #ace sabo luffy #one piece sabo

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wesaier · 3 months

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Just boys in some random outfits

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1axton1 · 6 months

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I love them all dearly

#asl brothers #one piece #one piece art #asl trio #monkey d luffy #portugas d ace #Sabo #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #one piece luffy #one piece ace #one piece dadan #curly dadan #dadan

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chrollohearttags · 6 months

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FIRE HYDRANT • portgas d. ace

ace loves his little squirter, perhaps a bit too much.

content + themes: firefighter!ace, firefighter!reader, choking, hate fucking, heavy squirting, he’s such a mean dom in this, mentions of oral sex, daddy is used, finger sucking, slapping, pet names are used (my love, babygirl, sweetheart), calls reader slut, missionary/mating press

📝: just a lil something to help me get my steam back. If it’s bad, you never saw it.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

“Okay, okayyyy…take some outtt..fuck!”

“Don’t be stupid, now move your hand before I do it for you.”

he was relentless and had been for the past couple hours or so..it seemed like he had no intention of doing so anytime soon either. Perhaps this time around..your big ass mouth had bit off far more than you could ever chew. Hence why at the moment..he was fish hooking his fingers in the sides of your jaws. Prompting you to suck on them as a means to shut you up. Feeding you a light tap to the cheek to ensure so as well.

“Rookie..how many times do I have to say it, huh? You don’t run a damn thing. It’s been what..four? Five? Hell, I’ve lost count how many times you’ve come on this dick. It’s like you can’t get enough of me, my love. I already knew that much though.”

the words tearing through you like a serrated dagger, slowly but surely cutting you up. A reminder of your weak resolve. You hated it, you hated it so fucking much that the one man you despised got you wetter than any boyfriend or partner you’d ever encountered. That this bastard knew your body far better than you did sometimes. He could do things that you’d never even imagined..taking you to heights unknown and yet, all you could do was stare at him in disgust as his cock plunged within your center repeatedly. Slamming balls deep as they smacked against your puckering asshole; drenched in your sticky mixture from drumming it out of you. It was just as he said, you had come for him for about the seventh time now. Running on fumes and pure spite to keep going. Maybe you wanted to prove him wrong that you could take whatever he threw your way, including the dick.

“Haaaah!—shit! Not right there..I’m gonna—“

“I know, babygirl. I know you are so why fight it? Squirt on daddy’s dick. Feels much better than arguing with me, doesn’t it?”

or..you loved the way he fucked you and your pride wouldn’t allow you to admit it! It would explain the large puddle formed underneath the towels on his couch and the splashes surrounding his foot; the other planted next to you so that he could truly get in it the way he wanted. And here you were..in the last position you wanted to be! Folded like a goddamn pretzel with your toes wiggling behind your head and this asshole hovering over you with that same stupid grin on his face, those deep set eyes and his necklace dangling in front of your nose. He was enjoying this. Enjoying turning his stubborn little rookie into his personal fire hydrant. The tight, juicy grip of that cunt embracing him like a warm hug..tinting his tan hued shaft with a sheet of white essence before exploding into the sweet, delicious rain as he made you squirt yet again. He’d never had pussy like it and it was for that reason alone, he put up with your bad attitude or rather, calmed it down.

“Nnggghhh!..I can’t..” your words were barely even making it above a decibel. A lot more quiet than the shouting you did at him when you first arrived. Pissed off about your inspection results earlier in the day. Granted, that was before he hissed at you to sit down, shut the fuck up and be a good slut for him..before he snatched your sundress down to reveal those plump tits and sucked on those gorgeous brown nipples that go so erect for him as he fingered you. And well before pinned your legs back and damn near sucked the flavor from your pussy! Using those nimble fingers to get you to climax..it was then that he discovered your little secret:

“Ahhh..so you’re a squirter, rookie? Well that’s good to know.”

and hadn’t stopped exploring it since. So for the duration of your stay, he’d been stretching that pussy out and using you to his heart's desire. Pulling on your hair, smacking on that fat ass as he gave you vicious backshots. Even tossing the pillow out of your way so you had zero comfort. His punishment for waking him up. Using your mouth as his personal cock sleeve, making you eat him up until you made a mess, calling him daddy after rewarding you with a warm nut to the back of your throat and after that, the fun really began. He’d kept you like this..drawing out orgasm after orgasm; streams of clear juices reaching as far up to his chest. Pulling out, tapping that mushroom tip against your slit to coax out another right after. He was having too much fun!

“You talk a lot of shit for someone who can’t even keep her eyes open. Too bad for you..”

suddenly, you’d feel the hard clutch of his digits around your throat which prompted you to gasp for air whilst clawing at his forearm. Zeroing in on your face, he’d hiss through gritted teeth and smile before slamming your head back down: “we’re not done, so wake that ass up. ‘M gonna beat that little pussy of yours so sore, you’ll be lucky if you can crawl out of here when I’m done. Gonna fuck you until you’re empty, baby..”

and something told you, that wouldn’t be anytime soon!

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